Fateful Night
by squirrelchaser
Summary: An account of the events before and after Celebrian's departure to Valinor. Mild violence.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Fateful Night

Author: Squirrelchaser (squirrelchaser12@yahoo.com)

Warnings: Erm…no slash, orc violence, nothing very graphic

Summary: a version of Celebrían's capture and her journey to Valinor

Disclaimer: These are Tolkien's characters, setting, Middle Earth…etc. Not mine.

***A token acorn and a big thank you to Ryder, who beta read this piece and improved it a lot***

Fateful Night

It all started out innocently enough. I remember that fateful night…that fateful, beautiful night of cool darkness that held heated terror under the bright stars.

"Amar," Arwen had complained as she settled at my feet and propped her chin on my knee. "Long have you spoken of the beauty of the woods of Lorien, and I am tired of hearing of it through song and story. Will you not take me there and show me yourself?"

I had smiled at her request and asked her brothers if they would like to accompany us, but they had been to Lorien several times and were not interested in making the journey this time.

I had been wanting to visit Amar in the Galadhrim for it had been many, many centuries since she had seen Arwen and she had grown up fully and come of age in that time. So I sent word to Amar. Then I had insisted even when she had told me: "Wait, wait until the winter has passed and come in the spring." I had then objected because I had wanted to show Arwen the Malorn trees in their autumn splendor. 

I had insisted even when Elrond had bid me to wait. I remember that we were in the sitting room of our chambers; I was in a patch of sunlight that made me blink and squint a little but the sun felt so warm and soothing I had not wanted to move. Elrond sat across from me, out of the warmth.

"Something does not feel right." he had frowned slightly as he mused. "Besides, what is your rush?"

"I am not sure," I had replied. "I miss Lorien. It has been a long time since I have seen my childhood home and my friends from before we were married." I had reached out and squeezed his hand and Elrond had sighed. I could tell he had been arguing with himself, but did not seem to want to tell me what about.

"Very well," he had relented. "Perhaps I am being over protective."

Though when the procession stood at the gate and we bid each other farewell he warned me again.

First he had gone to Arwen, brushing her cheek and kissing her on the forehead before bidding her good bye. Then he had come to where I sat astride Elishen, not looking at me as he stroked the warm golden flank. His eyes were far away and unreadable for several long moments before he said softly, "I think you should do as your Amar bids you and wait until the spring. You can always stay until the following autumn."

Foolishly I had laughed. "But we are ready to go now." I said, kissed him goodbye, and we had departed.

I should have listened and trusted his foresight.

I remember that night.

The sun was disappearing over the peaks of the mountains as we entered the narrow Redhorn pass. The summer breeze breathed upon our procession fluttering skirts and banners, carrying voices of song back over the way we came to where the horses were being led in the back of the procession. The path was narrow and a little dusty but that had not deterred us from dismounting and continuing our journey on foot.

I reveled happily in the beauty of the falling dusk, glowing at the thought of how Lorien looks in the night time.

"Something does not feel sound." Arwen shuddered from where she walks to my right.

Shaking my head I smile sidelong at my daughter who is dark-haired, grey-eyed and so much like her Adar in more than physical appearance.

"Perhaps it is just the evening chill," offers Finliwë from my left side. She is my dear friend and companion of Imladris of many years, having been the first to embrace my arrival after my marriage.

My daughter shakes her head. "No…that is not it."

We have almost reached the end of the Pass when I start to feel it too; there is danger in the air, blowing on the wind with an ominous hint of death. I turn to look at the horses that walk in the back and decide that Arwen is right; they are tossing their heads and whinnying, eyes rolling to the whites. Yet they faithfully do not leave their masters.

At the horses' reaction alarm ripples through the party and we quicken our pace.

Suddenly the air seems tense to a snapping point and my heart pumps blood faster through my veins, creating a rushing in my ears. Instinctively I move closer to Arwen for danger is near and I must protect her from I do not know what.

The few armed elves with us have arrows notched to their bowstrings and they move ahead prepared, alert…

We have almost reached the end of the Pass…

Arrows sing from bows, sinking deep into the first few targets as dark, alarming figures spring into the path ahead of us.

"Orcs!" 

And the cry continues, ringing useless into the night.

Grabbing Arwen by the arm I thrust her toward the back to where horses and an escape lie. "Go!" I scream, my own voice sounding shrill and thin through the summer evening air.

Something flies by us, whistling by my ear and burying its self in the ground ahead. 

I push Arwen a little harder, passing the small dart tipped with grotesque feathers of who knows what? There is another small whistle and a stinging shock in the back of my shoulder but that is the least of my concerns…"Arwen, GO!" Why is she hesitating? I push her forward and she nearly stumbled. Before she regains her balance I seize her about the waist and heave her onto Elishen's back. "Go! Ride for Imladris!" I call, as much to the horse as my daughter. 

"Amar!" Arwen hesitates but Elishen does not, springing forward just as I am grabbed from behind.

I struggle half heartedly, not taking my eyes off Arwen's dark head growing smaller and smaller into the distance down the narrow mountain path, cringing as some orc arrows fly perilously close. None of them hit their mark as she rounds the bend and out of sight.

My daughter is safe.

A cold, dirty, clammy hand is pressed over my mouth and I resist but am pulled off my feet as the detestable creature with surprising strength and nimbleness leaps away through the rock. I am being pulled past the bodies of my slain companions, their lifeless eyes wide in shock or perhaps pain…and now their souls are flying to the Halls of Mandos and my heart aches so terribly I cannot even weep.

But my daughter is safe.

Useless struggling, muffled screams…there are three - though I cannot see who - of us being pulled away from the safe familiarity of the Pass, one path that I have traveled many times in safety on a journey that until now seemed harmless and benign.

The fine dust from an unfamiliar path kicks up into my eyes from the churning feet of these foul beings but I am starting not to care. My world is growing hazy and the pain in my shoulder is but a dull ache. Am I upside down, slung over a shoulder like a sack? Or is it a drug creeping through my veins that is fooling my sense, making what is real seem imaginary and making fantasy come alive? 

Yes, that is it. 

It is only a dream. When I wake up tomorrow I will be in Imladris and this time I will stay when Elrond bids me to. 

Yes, that is it…

It is only a dream for this

cannot be happening, 

I tell myself as consciousness 

slips

through 

my 

fingers.

~*~

Hoofs beat a rhythmic sound of urgency on packed dirt as Arwen flew through the Gates of Imladris. "Adar!" Throwing herself to the ground she tore into the house, tears of fear and panic tracing their way down her cheeks. "Adar! Elladan! Someone!" Arwen cried, turning herself in a circle and finally seeing Elrond and Glorfindel rushing out of his study.

"What are you doing-"

Swiping angrily at her damp face with the back of her hand Arwen interrupted, "They have Amar! They took her! Orcs…we were ambushed…" her voice crack off into a choking sob.

Glorfindel ran for the door and Asfaloth.

"Are you hurt? Tell me exactly where this happened." Elrond said calmly but worry and fear lit in the back of his eyes.

"I am unhurt but many were slain or taken and Amar pushed me onto Elishen and bid me to fly and I left her!" Arwen wailed in a rush and covered her face with her hands.

Elrond paused in his rapid preparation, striding forward and putting his arms around his weeping daughter. "No Arwen, love. You did as your Amar bid you which is the best thing for her and yourself. Now, you must tell me, where was the party ambushed?"

With a gulp the young elf replied, "Orcs. At the very end of Redhorn Pass."

The elf lord turned a shade paler with his lips narrowing briefly in fear but he hugged his daughter quickly and made for the stable.

"No, Adar,"

Elrond was overtaken by his two sons, with Elladan stopping him scarcely outside the main door. "We shall go with Glorfindel. You must stay for you are a healer,"

Elrond opened his mouth to put his son in his place, and was cut off..

"There will be the injured as well as the dead. Please Adar, we are wasting time as we argue," Elrohir added. "Let us go for had we gone in the first place this event might not have occurred. Stay and prepare for return, for much help will be needed for the injured. Stay with Arwen."


	2. two

~*~

It was dark. It was dank. It emanated death, an aura of evil and malice hanging so heavily in the air it choked out all that was wholesome and healthy, good and loving. Nearly immediately upon coming into consciousness I could feel the despair of past captives, feel their pain and their fear mingling with my own and instinctively I struggled.

Cruel laughter and a sharp blow made me lie still again, a foul breath in my ear whispering, "Hush little elf, for your torment has not even begun."

In the dimness I could make out my surroundings. 

A large cave that reeks of excretion and orc with very poor lighting but perhaps that was for the best. There was a large fire in the back wall, near which I was bound. Seemingly a million leagues away was the mouth of the cave through which I could see the glorious light of early morning. How long ago it seemed that I had seen the sunlight! Turning my head slowly and carefully, I could see Finliwë bound next to me with arms held over her head and chained to the wall at the wrists.

"It shall turn out well in the end my lady," she smiled bravely though her eyes held a multitude of pain. "I am sure even now we are being sought."

I smiled back though I think my lips wavered. "Where is the third?"

Finliwë's eyes looked down. "They have done away with him."

Stomach lurching, I asked quietly, "Who?"

"Kinthar."

I gnawed at my lips and hung my head as far as my position would allow me.

Kinthar had been a young but powerful warrior; a sorrowful loss for he was barely past his majority. He reminded me much of my own sons when they were that age.

Glaring around at the orcs scattered about the cave, most of them lost in sleep, I was lost. How could such creatures come to such evil? They breathed, ate, slept in the same way that all living beings do yet unlike men, dwarves, and elves they were infused with such a hate for all that is good that I do not understand. I will never understand.

Day waned on slowly and we were left relatively unnoticed as most of the orcs, save the one that stood guard, slept in heaping masses on the floor.

_I remember when I first came to Imladris with Amar and I first met Elrond. _

_I was of age but still very young in mind, body and spirit so at first he seemed much too wise and aloof in his long years to be of any great interest to me. I had heard much of his bravery and all those things but had never paid him much heed when I met him other than the usual polite motions. _

_His feelings upon our first acquaintance however were quite the opposite, though he gave no indication. _

_I did not fall in love with him during my first stay but I remember noticing how different he was from most other male elves as he was gentler and more patient, a healer and very kind. I had not heard of many male healers or of many male elves that loved and studied lore as Elrond did. Yet I also knew that he was a great warrior and a counter part to Gil-galad and that impressed me as well. He seemed a plethora of a great many things which at first I found confusing._

_While in Imladris I spent much of my time in the stables, out on horseback, or up a tree in the orchards. I adored nature, birds, and the lush valley in which the house was nested. I remember my first reaction to the great roaring of the waterfalls; Elrond had offered to take me to see them up close (I think I also had some persuasion from Amar as well). _

_We had the usual polite and boring conversation while strolling out to the falls. Nothing extraordinary or anything that would qualify us as any more than very polite friends, at least in my mind._

_At first the falls had intimidated me a little as they were immense and loud and wet, but even though he sensed my trepidation Elrond said nothing as he guided me around the mist with one hand on the small of my back._

_I remember that I was impressed with his touch…he was not forceful or pushy but rather soothing, and that subdued my coercion and sparked my curiosity. That was when I first started to like the Lord of Imladris._

_I spent a great deal of time in the stables. I had loved horses from an early age._

_Amar and Glorfindel had decided to breed their horses to produce an offspring with the same coloring and build as its parents: large, beautiful creatures with supple golden bodies and pure white manes and tails. Amar's mare was stubborn but gentle in temperament (much like Amar herself), and Glorfindel's stallion was fiercely independent but willing to serve his master. Together they had produced a spindly legged frisky ball of mischief, complete with the gold and white coloring. I half wished that Glorfindel had chosen Asfaloth instead as he is much better behaved but that would have defeated the purpose for Amar had desired a horse of the same coloring for me._

_It was early in the morning during our stay and I had just finished dressing when Glorfindel tapped on my door. He poked his head in and grinned, "Your foal is about to be born. You would not want to miss this."_

_I followed him out to the stables to where Amar's beautiful Palomino lay on her side gripped in labor with Amar at her head, stroking, soothing and singing. What surprised me the most was who was perched at the other end of the horse…apparently the Lord of Imladris did not find it beneath his dignity to be on his knees in a mound of dirty bedding, up to his elbows in equine muck._

_He had looked at me briefly and smiled before turning back to the task at present._

_I remember his hands working diligently to extract the tiny foal that was emerging covered in the slimy sac. I sat with Amar at the mother's head but I was distracted. His hands were long and skillful, honed with years (and years and years) of wisdom, healing, birth, and death. With these hands Elrond gave a last mighty tug and out slid the baby horse who promptly started to writhe and protest to bright airy newness of her environment._

_"Easy there," he had stayed her thrashing limbs as her mother rounded her head and began to lick her foal clean. "What shall you call your young thing, Celebrían?"_

_Elrond's inquiry was as genuine and kind as it ever but suddenly I turned my head away and felt my cheeks grow warm at his gaze. That was the first time I noticed how beautiful and intelligent his eyes were, they seemed to tell volumes more in a single glance than he could speak in a life time._

_I named the foal Elishen._

_Elishen turned out to be an escape artist, at an early age learning to undo the latch to her stable door and wandering outside. At first her mother would have none of this but gradually gave up and her wanderings became quite frequent (even in the worst of rainstorms) but as there was no great danger in the valley and the other elves regarded her escapades with mere amusement._

_It had been raining lightly all day and I was bored indoors; I did not mind spinning or weaving but I did not enjoy it and after a while I grew restless. Slipping out of the house I made my way to the vast expanses of pasture that lay beyond the stables which were adjacent to the orchards._

_Elishen had grown, loosing some of her gangly-ness, her formerly bushy mane and tail were beginning to lengthen and her coat was growing silkier instead of the baby down that it first felt like. _

_When I found her Elishen was as usual frisking around in the rain but stopped to turn and look at me with her wide, youthful eyes as if to say: "Come, there is no harm in a bit of water! Play with me, for everyone else is indoors!"_

_I laughed at her expression, dashing toward her and she ran and we dodged between the apple trees for however long I do not know. I had probably slipped in the mud once or twice and it had begun to rain harder with the rumble of thunder in the distance. "No more!" I had insisted, leading her back to the warmth and dry of her stall._

_I had just latched the stall door and was still laughing with one hand placed on Elishen's withers when I saw a figure standing in the stable aisle._

_It was Elrond, looking dignified and particularly dry if not also slightly amused as he paused from attending his own horse and turned his attention to me._

_Immediately I felt a little self conscious and ashamed of my bedraggled appearance, with my hair hanging lank and damp from its braids and my dress saturated and mud streaked. This was no way to appear in front of your host much less an elf lord!_

_I think it was that day when I realized that I was really maybe not as young as I thought myself to be and had determined to leave childish things, such as running about in the mud and rain, behind me. It was also then that I stopped seeing Elrond as so very much older than me._

Evening has fallen and there was dread welling up in my chest. My shoulder is throbbing.

The nocturnal orcs have begun to stir, ignoring us as they attended their own needs which consisted mostly of bandaging wounds that had been sustained from last nights struggle. They have their own system of things; no real kinship is recognized and they live somewhere between animalistic and civilized. Things – food, namely – were free for all but at least they cook what they eat first. There is an unspoken hierarchy of whoever was the strongest got the first pick, followed by those who were weaker down to the most feeble being left bare bones. It ruthlessly insured that the strong stayed strong and the weak stayed weak. I do not know exactly what they ate; some kind of meat…as to what kind I dare not even guess for Kinthar's body was unaccounted for as far I know.

Beside me Finliwë is whimpering softly in either pain or fear as we are forced to watch them eat.

I close my eyes and try not to think of it, resting my mind and praying to the gods above that we would be rescued from this nightmare.

At length, around midnight, the orcs turn their attention to us.

In years to come I will never tell anyone what happened. I do not want to remember what happened, and yet I remember it all: their faces, Finliwë's face, the terror at what would happen, the lingering terror from what had happened. 

Finliwë is beginning to lose hope and is beginning to surrender to their evil devices. 

Against my skin I can feel the heat of terror undulating off her body as her spirit begins to break, even though she is several arm lengths away and there are orc bodies in between us. I call out in encouragement in elvish that in the end all will be well, but at the sound of our tongue the orcs become furious. We are then separated and dragged into different crevices of the cave so that we could not see each other; only hear the other's screaming. 

~*~

"Here," Elladan called to the two elves dismounting and picking his way over the bodies of their slain kin. "They took Amar and two others of this way, to their den." Straightening he pursed his lips in sorrow and fury. "They will all pay dearly for this."

~*~

I truly did not think I could bear it anymore. 

The silhouettes of my captors dancing along the walls of the cave, flickering in firelight, grating voices in a harsh tongue of their own, the mottled and dirty skin…all this is burrowing into my memory and I am to spend the rest of my life trying to forget it.

Someone is calling to Mandos for pity, their voice echoing off the stone walls and magnified ten fold. Screams are even louder. The voice sounds foreign, but it is probably me for Finliwë had gone quiet long ago. Through a veil of pain I am praying to the Valar that it was because the orcs had lost interest and had left her alone, praying that it will all be over soon or that I will wake up and find that it was all a horrific nightmare.

The orc's foul hands are everywhere: their leering lips over predatory teeth, the rings thrust in the pointed ears that were not unlike elves…

My only source of comfort is that my daughter has been spared this.

The pain is increasing…I cannot bear it! There is that strange, pleading voice echoing off the walls again and then there is another scream…

_The moon was out but its silver light paled in comparison to that of the stars. I do not think I had seen the stars shine as bright anywhere as they do on Imladris. I was staring up at them in wonderment at the window, leaning farther and farther out over the sill when I heard a chuckle and felt a hand on my shoulder. Pulling back in I turned to face Elrond._

_"You do not want to fall," he had said. "I could not answer to your Amar."_

_I smiled at the very thought, and we stood side by side not saying a word for several moments._

_At length he told me, with some uncertainty, how much he had come to care for me. Still I do not remember his exact words but I was shocked! The thought of this elf lord being in love with me - or anyone for that matter - was so absurd to my thinking. I had said nothing for several minutes for my brain had stopped working very well at the moment. _

_Elrond left me standing before the window and Amar and I departed the next morning, nothing further being spoken between Elrond and me other than a polite goodbye._

_Though she said nothing at the time I think Amar knew everything that had transpired._

_Over the centuries that followed I stayed in Lorien and heard little of Imladris, until the end of the __Battle__ on _Mount___Orodruin__ and the fall of Gil-galad. Upon Amar's urging I visited Imladris again during the first year of the Third Age, and this time I was by myself._

_The procession that had brought me from Lorien was met at the gate by the elf lord and Erestor. Remembering the coolness of our last parting I thought I saw Elrond give the briefest of wavers (the first and last time I ever saw that!) as he stepped forward. Dismounting I greeted him with a warm embrace, which seemed to erase any unease or questioning as to the condition of our friendship._

_I could tell there was a change in him though I was not sure what…he seemed a little sadder but much stronger in soul to my eyes. Perhaps it was not he that had changed but myself as I was older and a very little wiser, but he had also seen the fall of many friends and his mentor. _

_Maybe both of us had changed – our friendship was certainly much different. When I had first come to Imladris my interaction with its master was limited, consisting of me mostly being led by him and asking an occasional question to be polite._

_Now no longer did I climb the tall trees of the valley and only a few times did I go out on horseback. When I did it was with Elrond. Instead I spent much time in the gardens, sometimes in company of the elf lords and sometimes alone. Instead of polite questions followed by equally polite answers we had lengthy and intellectual conversations, filled with laughter. We both shared a love for flowers, beauty and art and he and I made a wind chime that still hangs in the garden to this day. We did little meaningless and often mundane things that at the time seemed anything but mundane, and I began to look at the world with renewed wonderment whenever I was with the elf lord. I was perpetually happy. Maybe that's what it is to fall in love._

_Everyone was very courteous and had I been a little older, a little wiser, or perhaps had a little more insight I might have seen what everyone was alluding to. Glorfindel especially shamelessly hinted to me about Elrond's affections but I did not pick up on it._

_Again I left and Elrond bid me to come again and I returned at the end of the first century of the Third Age. By that time I anticipated my stay with great happiness and for reasons that at the time I did not understand I found myself looking forward to spending more time with Elrond._

_When I left a year later we had exchanged the traditional silver betrothal rings. I still have his tucked away in my drawer in Imladris._


End file.
